


together (or something)

by scorpionGrass



Series: (or something) [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Cuckolding, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Sex, Laboratories, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29551536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionGrass/pseuds/scorpionGrass
Summary: One night at the lab, Mizael wonders what the space between him and Kaito can really be defined as.
Relationships: Mizael/Tenjou Kaito, V | Chris Arclight/Tenjou Kaito
Series: (or something) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171112
Comments: 18
Kudos: 9





	1. 7:52PM

Mizael’s not stupid. He knows this, by virtue of already being in cram school for university entrance exams. He’s not stupid. But something about Kaito makes him feel that way.

The glances that pass across the dimly lit Arclight Lab, the whispers over data reports, the time they spend in the break room together. Mizael knows he’s missing something in the equation, because he knows Kaito hates Christopher Arclight, so none of those things makes any sense. He’s not stupid, he’s just missing something. Solve for _x_ , except he doesn’t know where it’s supposed to be.

At least they haven’t kicked him out of the lab yet. Christopher doesn’t mind explaining his homework to him. Kaito likes the company while he does mind-numbing tasks.

Today he’s sitting next to Kaito at his usual workstation. Mizael has taken over most of the desk with his textbooks and notebooks, his multi-coloured pens bookmarking pages and strewn over the papers. The sound of clacking keys is almost lulling at this point, comfortable and familiar as Mizael reads over a passage again and tries to retain it, closing his eyes, lips moving silently to repeat it back to himself.

“Having trouble?” Kaito asks, and Mizael opens his eyes to find him taking a break to stretch his fingers.

“No. Just memorizing.”

He still wears fingerless gloves, but Mizael knows it’s less for aesthetic and more for the way his hands hurt and stiffen up after hours in the same position over a keyboard. Compression gloves, he’d called them. And maybe a week ago, he’d gotten glasses too. To reflect the blue light of the computer screens he’s always staring at.

Mizael thinks they’re nice on him, rimmed in a charcoal grey that makes his light eyes look even brighter in contrast. The only thing he hates about them is how he can’t see his expressions in full anymore, the way they cut across his eyes when they slide down his nose.

Still, they’re nice. They’re different.

“I can help you later,” Kaito offers, voice lowering when Christopher passes them. “It’s just equations right?”

“Yeah. You don’t need to know how they work, you just need to know the order.”

“Easy enough.”

“Says the one who doesn’t need to remember them.”

The corner of Kaito’s lips turns up. “Yeah, well.” He takes off his glasses, thumb and forefinger rubbing at the corners of his eyes as he leans back. “You don’t need a degree to be able to read something back.”

“Kaito,” Christopher calls out from the gigantic telescope in the middle of the lab. “Are you done yet?”

Mizael watches Kaito roll his eyes. “No,” he says, monotone as he puts his glasses back on, and it makes Mizael wonder yet again why he puts up with this job if he seems to hate it so much.

Kaito huffs out a breath and sets his hands over the keyboard. Flips the pages to figure out how many numbers, degrees, and other tidbits of notes are left, all collected by Christopher in quick, sometimes illegible cursive over the past two weeks.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, and Mizael mentally counts the pages as he turns them.

At least twenty more, today. More than usual.

It’s still early for a night at the lab. They usually start late anyway, around seven at night, and go till dawn. Currently it’s only around 8PM. Mizael always comes and goes as he pleases, but lately he’s been staying back longer and longer, finishing his homework and roaming around the lab.

It’s not a big lab, by any means, but there’s always something going. Receipt rolls of data that pour out from supercomputers, colour scales flashing on wide monitors, and the stars that move in the heavens.

Mizael misses being one of them.

“Might not have time tonight,” Kaito says, interrupting his thoughts.

“That’s alright,” Mizael replies, only slightly disappointed. “I think I’ve got the majority anyway.”

“Smartass.” Kaito smiles again, that twitch of his lips curving up again as he starts typing.

Another long bout of silence passes as Mizael finishes this subject and moves onto the next, switching one textbook out on the desk for another from his bag. It’s always so heavy these days, but he can bear it, more of an inconvenience than anything else if he decides to study anywhere but at home (and he’s doing that more and more now).

“I’m gonna get coffee. Want anything?” Mizael asks, putting his pen down and getting out of his chair.

Kaito barely looks up from the screen. “Mmm, coffee? Same.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

The break room is cast in actual light, unlike the dimness of the lab itself. It’s always dark, always tinted blue from all the lit-up monitors, just visible enough to write notes and study. But the break room is bright white, with marble floors and dark cabinets and light counters. And on top sits a ridiculously expensive coffee machine that Mizael is sure the Kamishiros could buy if they really wanted to throw down a few thousand.

But they’re not nearly as annoying and pretentious as Christopher Arclight.

Not by a long shot.

Mizael takes two mugs out of the cabinets, a matte black set with a glossy inside that he’s sure Christopher also shelled out a pretty penny for despite being utterly basic in every way. Kaito’s right. He can dislike him all he wants, but he can use him too. For help with cram school. For fancy coffee in expensive mugs.

He presses through the touchscreen menu, scrolling till he finds the latte option he knows Kaito likes, leaning back against the counter as he watches the machine whir to life and drip into the mug below. It smells good, and Mizael figures he’ll try one too. He’s never tried a latte before.

The door opens again and Mizael’s eyes shift to see Christopher walk in. He’s wearing his lab coat, as usual, and it’s white and pristine save for the wrinkles at the bottom from when he sits.

“Hello,” Christopher says.

“Hi.”

“How is your homework going?” he asks. “Do let me know if you need any more assistance.”

Mizael has the feeling Christopher gets off on him being stuck. He’s not stupid, after all. He knows jealousy when he sees it, and the coffee machine is proof. Well, not concrete proof, but it had shown up maybe two weeks after Mizael had started hanging out here to do homework and spend time with Kaito. It was suspicious, to say the least.

“It’s good,” Mizael says evenly. The machine stops and he takes the mug out, setting up the next one. “I might not even need your help tonight. The teacher at cram school cleared everything up, not that there was much I was concerned about.”

Christopher nods, not moving away from the door. Like he’s blocking him out. “I see. Good. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

It sounds like an insult, but Mizael smiles, all sharp edges. “Yeah, I’ll be just fine.”

His mug is done now too. He picks both up as Christopher opens his mouth again.

“Please don’t distract Kaito. His work here is important.”

Mizael’s eyes narrow. “Okay,” he says, like most of his nights here aren’t completely silent anyway. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

That said and done, Christopher moves aside, and Mizael strides out. Suspicious asshole.

When he gets back to the desk, he slides Kaito’s mug toward him and gets a weary smile in return.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Mizael picks his pen back up, smoothes down the page in his textbook, and gets started again.

Their schedules have never aligned, and Kaito’s the only human Mizael doesn’t find grating to be around, so this is his solution. The Arclight Lab. The silence is nice. He doesn’t get it often back home, and it’s a comforting void. The sounds of Kaito typing and breathing beside him are something he doesn’t mind one bit as he works through equation after equation in peace.

Too bad he has to deal with Christopher too.

“How far along are you?” he asks loudly from across the lab, splitting the silence in half.

Mizael’s eyes flicker up in time to see Kaito’s lips turn down. “You gave me two weeks of notes to get through. It’ll take more than an hour.”

Kaito types fast too, with barely a pause. He can type without looking at the keyboard, something Mizael can’t figure out how to do, tapping each key one at a time with his index fingers instead until he can memorize the placement of every letter and number and symbol. And yet, even with Kaito’s speed, it still takes him forever to get through whatever Christopher writes in those notebooks.

Numbers and observations and… Mizael peers over at the screen. He’s never paid much attention, but now he’s curious. “What are the notes about, anyway?”

“Planetary movement, I guess? Sometimes just random tangents on whether Pluto is truly a planet. I have no idea why the department needs half of this shit,” Kaito says, pausing again to flex his hands before settling them around his warm mug, letting the heat seep into his palms. “You remembered.”

“Yeah.”

He smiles and takes a sip. “Thanks.”

They always whisper, talk in low tones that drift underneath the sounds of the machines around them to escape Christopher Arclight’s notice, but even if their conversations are short and rare, Mizael still finds himself at the other end of a hard look. He smiles back, flipping his hair over his shoulder and twirling his pen between his fingers as Christopher’s expression morphs into a grimace.

“When’s your break?”

“Nine. Or at least, if we were unionized,” Kaito says wryly.

Mizael doesn’t really get the joke, but he doesn’t have to. “Let’s take a break anyway. At nine.”

“Sure.”

That’ll piss Christopher off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kaito with glasses is a vibe :3 cute...


	2. 8:49PM

Tonight is rough. Kaito grimaces as he rubs his palms through his compression gloves again. He hasn’t gotten out to see a doctor yet about it, but it’s probably carpal tunnel or arthritis or something he definitely shouldn’t be getting yet for at least another decade. But that’s how degradation works, lucky him.

It doesn’t help that he slipped on ice earlier. That’ll leave a bruise right above his wrist. It hurts if he lets his wrists actually rest, but that’s the price for not putting salt down.

Well, Chris not putting salt down. He owns the fucking lab, after all.

Can he sue for that? The money would be nice. The lawyer fees would suck. His bones didn’t break, and maybe that’s a blessing considering he’s been told they’re brittle.

He’d kill for a break though. Kaito’s eyes adjust to stare through the holographic monitor at Chris, who… what is he even doing, anyway? Is it important? Can’t he do this himself for once? Why can’t he just type his notes to begin with and save Kaito the trouble? It’s not like there’s a lack of computers in here. Or laptops. They’re funded by the University, after all. There’s probably a student who’d love to listen to him talk and transcribe his thoughts.

Not Kaito, though.

This is a pain.

Beside him, Mizael sets down a blue pen and picks up a green one. His writing is neat, all his Japanese characters legible and clean, and Kaito thinks he wouldn’t mind typing those up. At least then he could skip deciphering whatever Chris writes in his English cursive. Never mind that English is Kaito’s second language, and barely that some days.

He’s so tired.

The next time Mizael snaps a pen down to the desk, he huffs out a breath.

“Problem?” Kaito asks.

“I’m stuck,” Mizael says, like it’s the worst thing that could possibly happen.

“You should--”

“I know.” He looks horribly unhappy about it. “I don’t want to.”

Honestly, fair. The way Chris has been acting recently is off-putting, to say the least. Something must have happened, since he threw down over three thousand dollars on a coffee machine for the breakroom. As if there aren’t better uses of his money.

Kaito thinks about how many months of rent that is and wonders what it’s like to still rely on your family name like that. Couldn’t be him.

“You don’t have to,” Kaito says, watching as Mizael mentally seems to debate the pros and cons of admitting weakness to Chris for the third time this week. The unit he’s on must be difficult.

“I’m not,” Mizael decides after a moment. Then he pulls his mug toward him by the handle and takes a sip. “This sucks.”

His eyes flicker away and Kaito follows his gaze to Chris. Something makes him agree.

“Let’s break early,” Kaito suggests, lifting his hands from the keyboard and setting them in his lap. “Best way to get unstuck is to get away for a bit and go back fresh.”

“Okay.” Mizael brings his legs up, crossing them on the seat, and leans down to rummage through his school bag. “You need a break too.”

Kaito agrees on that as well, watching him pull out a bottle of hand cream, twisting the seal cap open.

“Take your gloves off,” Mizael instructs. “I’m gonna fix your hands.”

“Fix them?”

“Yes, fix them,” he says with a straight face. Then raises an eyebrow. “Is that weird?”

Kaito snorts softly, but he tugs the gloves off anyway, setting them over Chris’ annoying notes. “No, it’s cool. I just didn't expect it, I guess.”

He holds his hand out and Mizael takes it as he scoots closer, the wheels on his chair squeaking. Then he squeezes the cream out into Kaito’s hand. It’s cold against his skin, though that might be the inflammation. Or the pain. Mizael spreads out the cream, till it covers his whole hand, back to front, making his skin slick with moisture.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Not really.”

Kaito bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Seriously?”

“Well, it can’t be that hard. You just apply pressure.”

On cue, Mizael presses his thumbs into the centre of Kaito’s palm, making him wince as he kneads into the muscles and bones, runs pressure through his life line and across his heart line under his knuckles. It feels good though, once he’s used to it. Even when his fingers brush against the bruise forming on the edge of his hand.

“Does this feel better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Mizael continues, squeezing his way up each of Kaito’s fingers, rubbing the lotion into his cuticles, and drawing hard lines on the back of his hand between the bones. Then he gently presses each finger back, just enough to stretch out the soreness. He works quietly, as concentrated as he was with his textbooks.

“Why are your wrists red?” Mizael asks, sliding the heel of his palm against the veins there.

Good question, with a terrible answer. “Chris likes using ropes.”

“For what?”

Kaito licks his lips as he debates his answer. It’d been this afternoon, at Chris’ apartment, when his wrists had been tied up. It’s not like they hadn’t used ropes before, but with the worsening pains, the near-arthritic state of his hands, Kaito had told him not to. But Chris bound his wrists anyway. He’s starting to think the whole convenience aspect of this setup is falling apart.

Not to mention, Chris really sucks at aftercare.

(Maybe Kaito should sue after all.)

“It’s… complicated,” Kaito settles on, even if that’s a lie. In actuality, it’s really pretty simple, he’s just not in the mood for half-assed explanations.

“Shouldn’t be that complicated,” Mizael mutters. “He should just stop using them.”

“You’re right about that.”

Mizael finishes off massaging Kaito’s hand by bringing it up and brushing his knuckles with his lips.

“Kisses too?”

“Yeah. Humans kiss things better, so it helps right?” Mizael says, letting go and gesturing for his other hand.

“You’re not… wrong,” Kaito says, half-smiling as he sets his other hand in Mizael’s and watches him repeat all the steps. In his periphery, he can see Chris glaring at them, but he doesn’t quite care. This feels good, much better than the awkward words and pat on the back he’d gotten this afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl lately i think i need a hand massage as well, miza plz give me one too~


	3. 10:26PM

If possible, Kaito types even faster now. Mizael mentally gives himself a pat on the back for a job well done and all but preens when Kaito smiles at him and says “Thanks, I feel so much better now.”

Too bad he’s still stuck on the same page he’s been rereading for the past twenty minutes. Something about the explanation doesn’t add up in Mizael’s head, but hell if he knows what’s missing. The one piece in this puzzle that would make the entire lesson click and become so easy.

Usually it’s fun to figure things out, dig into a text or a theory and come out the other side with an answer that resolves everything. Today it’s just irritating. It doesn’t help that he’s missing something with Kaito too.

Ropes?

Mizael isn’t stupid. Unfortunately, he knows what the ropes are for, he knows Vector has a set of them at home, and he knows exactly what they’re used for. Vector had told him in great detail one night when he’d been bored. One of the many reasons why Mizael prefers being at the lab.

He’d rather not hear about what Vector does to Rio in his spare time.

(It makes him feel a bit stupid, though, that the answer hadn’t clicked right away, only hitting him long after Kaito had mentioned ropes at all.)

Other things Mizael would rather not hear about:

  1. What Christopher does to Kaito in his spare time



It’s really not a very long list, but Mizael thinks it’s important to note that it’s really not something he’s interested in at all in the slightest. There’s nothing more off-putting than Christopher Arclight. He’s still not sure why Kaito puts up with him like that, and especially when they’re not even dating.

Mizael rereads the page again. He’s stopped counting how many times he’s read it and tries to ignore the clock in the corner of Kaito’s monitor. It taunts him, and it’s making him so frustrated he can barely concentrate.

“Still stuck?” Kaito asks.

“Ugh.”

“Are you sure you don’t--”

“Yes. Positive.”

“Then, let me see?”

Mizael tips the textbook back onto the desk from where he held it against the edge. “This whole page. It doesn’t make any sense,” he says, angling the book over.

Kaito’s eyes scan over the page. “Actually, I can help with this one.” He sounds almost surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s actually kinda simple, once you know the trick,” he says, picking up one of Mizael’s pens and taking the notebook from his hands. “Here, I’ll draw it out for you.”

Kaito flips to a new page and sets it down on the desk. Purple ink flows out of the pen, numbers and symbols littering the page as he goes through the first homework question step by step, murmuring the explanation for each part as he does it. Then, he caps the pen and switches it out for another. It’s blue, and he uses it to circle out the part Mizael was missing, writing out the explanation in a column beside the solved equation.

When he passes back the notebook, Mizael stares at it. “You made that look so easy.”

“Because it is,” Kaito says, pushing his glasses up. “Try it with the next question.”

Mizael reads over Kaito’s writing. It’s a little scrawled but still legible, and he peers over at Kaito’s wrists again, the red parts that peek out from underneath his compression gloves. He wonders if it’d be neater, if his hands didn’t hurt so much.

Picking up a pen, he figures there’s nothing to do now but try it. Kaito’s explanation makes sense, and there’s only one way to memorize how it works. Mizael writes out the next equation and practically flies through solving it.

“Like this?” he asks, holding it out to Kaito.

“Yeah. That’s it, you got it.”

Mizael beams with pride. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Kaito says. “You picked it up fast.”

“You’re so much nicer than Christopher,” he says. “He’d be a total ass about this.”

“You can call him Chris, you know.”

“No. That’s a nickname, it would imply I hold any affection for him at all.”

Kaito almost laughs. “I guess you’re right there too.”

Mizael twirls his pen between his fingers and starts in on the rest of the homework, able to complete the page of questions with little doubt or hesitation and move onto the next. He’s not really sure why the cram school teachers think this much homework is viable, but it’s probably a blessing he really has nothing else to do other than this.

About halfway through the next page, Mizael glances over at Kaito, the English words that span over the monitor and fill up line after line in steady stream.

“What do you do in your free time?”

Kaito hands stop and he tilts his head. “Free time? Like, when I’m not here?”

“Yeah.”

He thinks it over for a moment and frowns. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I… don’t know? What do you do when you’re not studying?”

Mizael blinks at him. “I…”

They stare at each other for a moment. “I guess I… hang out with Haruto? Or, uh. Huh.” Kaito cracks an awkward smile. “We must be pretty boring.”

“Maybe.” Somehow, even with this, Mizael feels like he’s missing something. “Do you and Christopher not do stuff together?”

“We do,” Kaito says, “but it’s just, not really worth noting.”

Then, Christopher himself comes up to their workstation. He taps a finger loudly against the desk.

“Chris,” Kaito acknowledges. “What’s up?”

“Just wondering how far along you are,” he says, setting a stack of files down on the desk. “I have some more for you, and it’s all fairly urgent. Things I would need by the weekend.”

Mizael watches as Kaito’s smile turns to a grimace as his teeth grit together. “I’m about halfway,” he says. “You know I can’t--”

“I don’t see anyone else here who can.”

Mizael bristles at that. Because yes, he’s here to do homework and he’s not on any kind of payroll and no he can’t actually type for shit, but this is so wholly unnecessary. In his periphery, Kaito rubs at his wrist.

“I told you, I’m taking tomorrow off. You should get an intern with a turnover that fast.”

“They’d be more interested in learning than data-entry,” Christopher says. “I don’t have the time for that. And I don’t remember you mentioning taking a day?”

That’s probably a lie. It has to be, considering Mizael has no idea what Christopher even does at the lab other than watch the varying machines go  _ whir _ , tapping a pen against his clipboard and going “hmm” every so often like something interesting has happened. Or maybe Mizael just really doesn’t understand astrophysics.

“I mentioned it last week. And this afternoon,” Kaito informs him. “It’s important.”

“You didn’t tell me what it was, then.”

“Didn’t think I legally had to.”

Christopher purses his lips. “Fine. You can have tomorrow off,” he says finally before walking away.

“It was approved two days ago,” Kaito mutters, then sighs. He rubs at his wrists again, right then left, and turns to Mizael. “Maybe I should start calling him Christopher too.”

(He should, Mizael thinks.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gotta love awkwardly sitting in the middle of a whatever spat


	4. 11:32PM

Kaito stares at the pile of files Chris put on the desk and grimaces. As if he hasn’t reminded him every week of his degrading body, the dull aches and sharp pains that make everything so much harder to do. He’s tired. Exhausted of having to explain himself.

“I’m taking a break,” he says after a moment, pushing himself up from his chair.

“Good,” Mizael says, not looking up from his notebook. “You deserve one.”

“You too.”

“I’m not done--”

“Come on,” Kaito says, snatching the book out of his hand and setting it down. “We’re both taking a goddamn break.”

He watches Mizael blink at his suddenly empty hands and shrug. “Okay. What are we doing?”

Not a walk. Chris still hasn’t salted the icy path, which is honestly unfortunate. The lab is starting to feel suffocating. The break room has a window, though, and maybe that’s good enough. Fresh air. Kaito leads the way over, opening the door for Mizael and following him in, practically slamming it shut. He beelines for the window, shoving it open and breathing in the cool air that immediately blows in.

“God, I hate him sometimes,” Kaito says finally.

“Only sometimes?” Mizael asks.

“Maybe more than sometimes.” The goosebumps that crawl over his skin feel good. Refreshing, somehow. He sighs. “Fuck.”

“You could always quit.”

“I still need a job.”

“Then get a new job?”

“It’s kinda hard to. When you’re a dropout.”

Convenient. Kaito turns around and takes a seat at the table set against the wall of their tiny break room. This is all convenient, Chris is convenient, this job is convenient, the money is convenient, the excuses out of dinner plans with his father are convenient. Maybe it’s not anymore, though.

He rubs at his wrists.

“Is a little certificate that important?” Mizael asks. “You have work experience, it’s not like your resume is empty.”

Kaito folds his arms on the table. “Yeah, technically I’m listed as a lab assistant, I guess? But all he makes me do is chores and data-entry. It’s not good for much. And lying on your resume gets you caught out quick.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

Mizael doesn’t understand much about the human world, but he’s smart. He latches onto ideas fast, and it never takes long to get him to understand human concepts that never existed in his era, not that he remembers much of it.

Learning from scratch, but he already knows just how dire a situation quitting would put Kaito in. No explanation required.

“You could ask to do other things?” Mizael suggests. “Or maybe…”

“You don’t have to solve my problems,” Kaito interrupts. “I mean. Thanks, but--”

“Then what can I do?”

Kaito pauses at that. “What?”

“What can I do?” Mizael repeats.

He’s too nice. Kaito’s not used to it from anyone but Yuuma and the rest of the Numbers Club, who all look up to him like some cool older brother type and it always makes him feel strange but warm. But from Mizael it’s different. He doesn’t look up to him.

Mizael looks straight at him. Kaito’s not sure how that makes him feel.

“You don’t have to do anything, Mizael,” he says. “To be honest, just you being here helps.”

“Seriously?” Mizael’s brow furrows. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you… sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Mizael tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Okay,” he says, leaning against the counter in thought. “Well, while we’re here, might as well take advantage of this stupidly expensive coffee machine.”

“Another one?”

“Why not. Long night, right?”

“Too long,” Kaito grumbles, resting his chin on his arms. “Fuck it. Why not.”

He hears the machine start whirring and sighs. Mizael sits up on the counter, hands clutched over the edge, and they stare at each other across the short distance as the mug beside him fills slowly.

“You know, I really don't know what I do when I’m not here. Sleep, mostly. Maybe.”

Mizael tilts his head to the side in a miniscule movement that makes his blonde hair shift. “Wake up, school, study, sleep, repeat,” he says. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“That’s common,” Kaito says. “For students, at least.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, some try to have a social life, but that’s a personal thing I guess. What do the others do?”

“I don’t know. Durbe’s in high school now? He’s, uh. The student… something. A president.”

“Student council president?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” It’s been almost two years since everything. It makes sense, Kaito just forgot. “The rest are still in middle school?”

“Mhm. They hang out a lot, but they don’t have as much homework as I do.”

Kaito smirks. “You feel left out?”

“No,” Mizael says, face scrunching. “I have you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You.”

Again, Mizael looks straight at him in that intense way of his. Then shutters.

“Is that weird?”

“No?”

“You didn’t say anything--”

Kaito laughs. “No, it’s fine. Really. You’re the only person I ever really see outside of Haruto and Chris, so I guess I have you too.”

It’s not a lie. The last time he actually went out of his way to see anyone else was when Yuuma invited him and Haruto over for dinner to hang out and catch up with Orbital 7. It had been fun, but it wasn’t something that he penned out in his calendar every month or anything.

The time before had been for the Barian’s joint birthday party, on the day the Numeron Code reset everything. They’d gone out for hotpot. That had been fun too, Kaito supposes, but it had been months ago now.

The coffee machine stops whirring and Mizael takes the mug out, sipping from it.

“What’d you get?” Kaito asks.

“It’s called a,” Mizael checks the screen, “caramel macchiato.”

“I’ll have one too.”

Mizael sets in another mug and presses start. “It’s nice. I’ve never had one.”

“They’re decent. I think I only tried it once because it said caramel.”

“Cute.”

Kaito snorts softly. Mizael’s no stranger to the stash of caramel squares in his car, tucked away in the glove compartment for whenever Haruto visits. They’d gone through half of it just driving him back to the Kamishiro Mansion once.

The machine stops and Kaito gets up, walking across the room and picking up the mug. It’s warm in his gloved palms, and when he sips it, his glasses fog up. He sighs, taking them off and folding them on the counter. “I wish I didn’t need a paycheque.”

“Same.”

Kaito raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you freeload at the mansion?”

“I’d rather move out.” Mizael shrugs and sets his mug down beside Kaito’s glasses. “It’s… a lot to be around everyone all the time. I don’t hate it, I just need my own space. Even in a gigantic place like that, it’s hard, if that makes sense.”

“That’s why I moved out,” Kaito says. “Couldn’t stand it, being at home with Faker. Like, I could quit and go back to living there, but. I’d rather be anywhere else.”

He sets his mug down as well, too hot to drink right now. It’s too bad he can’t take care of Haruto himself too. He left him there, with Faker. But he’s happy, and that’s what matters, right?

“Are you okay?”

Kaito frowns. “I’m fine.”

“Oh,” Mizael frowns back. “You don’t look okay.”

“Just, a lot to think about,” he admits. “How much this setup is really worth it. Is it really that convenient, if it feels like everything I do is killing me faster.”

Mizael watches him curiously. “Have you ever told him to go fuck himself?”

“I should,” Kaito says with a grimace.

But he doesn’t ask how Mizael knows this is really just one big clusterfuck with Christopher Arclight at its core. At this point, it may as well be obvious, and it’s one-sided no matter how convenient the benefits are.

“Kaito?”

“Yeah?”

Mizael’s legs hook around his waist, pulling him flush to the counter and cupping his face in his hands. Before Kaito can really register it, they’re kissing. When Mizael pulls away, his cheeks are flushed pink, face determined.

“Do you feel better?”

Kaito blinks at him. “Not yet,” he says quietly, leaning in and catching Mizael’s lips again.

It registers dimly that Mizael tastes like coffee and strawberry lip balm, soft and plush when Kaito swipes his tongue over them. Mizael opens up easily, more pliant and giving than Chris has ever been, but that’s probably not hard when he’s so closed off. He wraps his arms around Kaito and pulls him closer, deepening the kiss and moaning into him.

Before they can get much further than that, the break room door opens up. Christopher Arclight strides in, a clipboard held loftily in one hand. “Kaito--”

He stops.

Kaito’s eyes open, sliding over to him as he slowly parts from Mizael and falls back onto his heels. He can hear Mizael breath hard, his arms still around him, Kaito’s hands still on his waist. “Did you want something?”

Chris looks to be at a total loss. “You’re… cheating on me?” His voice cracks over the word, just slightly, enough to almost miss it entirely.

Kaito’s brow furrows. “We were never dating.”

“What--”

“Didn’t you come in here for something?”

“How are we not dating?” Chris asks disbelievingly. “We work together, we have sex.”

Kaito stares at him. Wonders what possibly could have convinced him that those two things are all that’s necessary to build any kind of real relationship. “That’s not dating.”

“What?”

“What did you come in here for? To tell me off again?”

“I--” Chris looks from him to his clipboard and back, confused. “I don’t remember. It’s not important, come see me when you’re done.”

He switches from personal to professional in an almost inhuman snap, and turns around in a flourish of his lab coat before walking back out. The door clicks shut behind him and Kaito smiles up at Mizael.

“Hmm, that’s one problem solved,” he says.

“Good,” Mizael says, face still flushed pink. “Fuck him.”

“Not anymore. So, where were we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> straight up i wrote this entire fic just to cuck chris in his own damn lab i'm glad we went on this journey to get to this final scene ;3

**Author's Note:**

> if y'all like my writing, you should hmu on twitter! i'm [@piperEXE](https://twitter.com/piperEXE) :3


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